Depths of Space:Red Giant IC (Reboot, FT, Open)

[Veroxia]

Economics and Tea

---

Conference Room
Elysian Royal Palace
Genesis System, Elysium
The Old Masaki Dynasty

---

The Dynasty’s answers were satisfactory to Agobi’s hearing modules, though the need to effectively defend the economic zone would take time and funds, though they will surely find the zone useful in the long wrong. The problem however lied within the economic foundation of the Collective itself; currency. The Korosians used a digital currency known as simply a credit. Its value was backed by the Grand Council, but for how long? Perhaps the Dynasty’s currency held a larger power base economically?

Aesis did not too consider the economic consequences at all, he was far too interested in speculating what culture and technologies the various people may have that are different from the typical Korosian. He was content with what they had stated, and that was all he wanted.

Hailstorm’s expression gave Agobi the shivers, the intensifying thought process of which this experienced official and military officer held deeply concerned him. The military was afterall crucial to the Collective. The culture, the ideals, and their sapiance as a species arose through the use of force of which directly led to their rebellion against the Dronusi.

“We are content with your answers, however I wish to infer upon the economic zone; security wise I believe we can manage so with jointly-operated checkpoints and the use of various patrols. However, we must also consider managing our finances; considering what you may consider expensive are cheap in the Collective, and reverse likely true. Therefore, it is best that we both look into this situation with your economists and ours and develop something that may ensure financial stability. It would be foolish not to.

In addition to what we put forth, I want the following answered: One, do you know of any other civilizations near our borders?
Two, is it possible to have direct communications with one of you in the case of any grave situation?
And three...do you not have any refreshments? Any tea is preferable, us Korosians are capable of consuming due to..”evolution”.” Hailstorm chuckled to ease any tension.

“You learned something from us already, and we haven’t even signed anything yet!”

Agobi and Aesis simply looked at each other emotionless and faced the members of the Dynasty, both thinking in their mind “And the Commander has done it again.” sarcastically.

Agobi added on, “If you seek to ask any other questions regarding our species, feel free to ask; we will answer all to the best of our ability.” in a warm, cultured manner.

[Skaldia]

Arkaean Orbit
FSL Junipar

Captain Qiuroz M'naz of Clan Kelair of the FSL Junipar, a Hestion Class Corvette assigned to System Defense, was on a routine patrol above the orbit of Arkaea herself when a soft chime alerted him to a problem. The CCO (Chief Communications Officer) turned from his monitor and spoke,"Captain, our systems are reporting an unregistered exit from the Grand City. A Sentar sir. Registration O104."

Captain Quiroz nodded, intrigued. Before exiting orbit, ship pilots were required to report their lift off to the MADDS (Mid-orbital Active Defense Deployment System). The fact that the registration had not been completed had almost resulted in the the satellite defenses almost firing upon the shuttle. Only after the AISC in charge of monitoring MADDS had realized the error the Shuttle had made and been aware of FSL Junipar's proximity to Shuttle O104 did it disengage it's firing platforms to allow the Junipar to interdict the shuttle.

"Very well. Engage Protocol I91. Once the AISC/L has overrode the LAI aboard the Sentar and sent the ship to drift will we interdict it. Also, alert CSO (Chief Security Officer) Yelavall to prepare a reception party for whomever is aboard." The Grade 4 AISC/L aboard Junipar was her machine intelligence. The Sentar was also equipped with machine intelligence but was of a far inferior model, a Tier 1 LAI. Once they came into CogNet range the AISC/L would have a digital conversation with her counterpart aboard the O104 and have the ship turn off engines.

---

Aboard Shuttle O104, Blur would notice the ship suddenly go dark, the engines no longer firing. Meanwhile, Junipar had came within firing range of the shuttle and had been actively scanning the ship."Sir, we're detecting only one lifeform...and it's non-Arkaean."

"Alert Captains Paldij and Iaals. Have them join me immediately. Tell CSO Yelavall to allow the Marines to take this. Once the Captains have been alerted, send a message to Fleet Command."

"Sir, it is most likely the lifeform aboard is responsible for a murder in the House of Patriarchs committed just 49 minutes ago." An electronic, disembodied voice said, that of the AISC/L responsible for the Junipar.

Quiroz sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand."Very well. CCO. Alert Fleet Command we have the murderer."

Fringes of Arkaean Federation Space
Onboard Labors of Glory
Major Ressian Zals

"Welcome aboard my ship, the Labors of Glory. I am his captain, Patrias Tyrant Svol'Cumo, besides me is Patriarch Liket'Cumo, Patriarch of the Cumo Clan, and besides him is High Elder Knel'Cumo. We greet you in the hopes of peace and prosperity."

"As I am to understand it, you are to search our ship for possible threats before we head to the meeting place. As Tyrant Svol here has already informed me, all the crew of the Labors of Glory have been ordered to keep all of their weapons holstered at all times during your time onboard. I also wish to inform you that all weapons systems have been taken offline prior to your arrival, though I am sure you wish to check that for yourselves. Guides have been prepared and are waiting just outside this hangar to guide you around the ship, if you so wish. If any of you wish to discuss aspects of the upcoming meeting, you may stay here and we may continue talking."

It took a moment for the Tier 3 LAI to translate what the Rv'Lonat were saying, repeating the conversation in Arkaean to Major Ressian. Nodding, Major Ressian slowly reached up and touched a button near her Helm. A whir and the Helm folded away from her head, retracting in to the shoulder guards, revealing a narrow, scarred face. Her white skin and gold eyes breathed in the alien atmosphere while constantly scanning her surroundings. While she was in the power armor of a Federation Marine she was, in reality, a member of the FSR (Federation Special Reconnaissance). Her white hair was ritually bound close to her scalp, with small finger bones covered in ritualistic markings bound into to her hair.

She spoke, with her chest mount taking her words and translated them back in Rv'Lonat to the delegation before her, the alien's language issuing forth in a machine voice from her chest mount,"I am Major Ressian Zals of the Arkaean Federation. While we appreciate your procedures, my company and I will remain here while these," she turned away from them and gave a shrill whistle. At her whistle, three small hovering droids came out. The size of small terrestrial canines, they came to rest floating above Ressian's head."With your permission, these droids shall engage in scanning while we discuss the impending meeting."

[Empire of Donner land]

---

Revenge
|Baeturn System, Vresh Dead Space|C2.8.8.2496|

"What's on passives?! Give me information, sensors!" the Captain yelled, on the bridge outside the windows, the now hostile system laid before them, the sun shining into the room along with the artificial blue lighting within the bridge itself. The ship itself was millennia old and kept 'afloat' by generations of maintenance and refitting, and yet it kept on even after the Hyperwar. The Fallen of Olympus and it's sister ships had endured so much to get here.

The Sensors Adept looked up from their console and stated concerning news, "We have multiple ships on thermals, identification is calling them Frigates," after tapping on their console some more, filtering out various background noise and looking through the EM waves, all they could state was "no other contacts."

The Science Adept had brought up concerning news, "Logs in the computer state that certain Vresh types have the capability of sensing gravitic changes. It's likely they've spotted us enter the system," this made the captain think for a moment before deciding on an action to take. They'd been given orders to burn Vresh Worlds to the ground, and this was a prime opportunity to do so.

"Bring us in at full sub-light speed, arm all weapons, I'll give the order to fire on my command, prep the Particle Beams," and at their command, the engines of the Battleship roared to life, propelling the massive construct to sublight speed within minutes. From the depth of space, the Vresh would see the Shenyuri renewed, and on the Captain's command, the bright light of two particle beams was sent into the Vresh formation from the edge of the system.

The Captain opted for a hard and fast attack, meant to be a crippling strike and to cause a rout. Wherein the Planet would be open for cleansing, then allowing the Battleship to leave the system, with the Vresh hopefully confused and concerned. While the ship flew into combat, he pointed towards the Comms Adept and gave a special request.

A message was broadcasted on open frequency to the Vresh ships specifically in their language.

"This Fury from Generations"

[Northern Poland]

Border Station, Independence System
A patrol of 3 corvettes detected a freighter on their radar flying straight on them, and then they detected two pirate corvettes flanking the ship in a arrow formation. Rear Admiral Jameston Halland was the commander of the Patrol Squadron, a inexperienced admiral, fresh out of the officer academy. He had in the past, shown great scores on strategy simulations at the academy, but the stress of a real operation might take a toll. He looked at the communications officer, pointing at him with a stone cold look, saying, "Get me a line with both of the captains of the other ships." He nods, typing in something of the keyboard on his holo projector. Two live cameras popped up on the screen of the Bridge Projector, the faces of the captains staring down at him.

Jameston's neck is ripe with sweat, as he looks at them and says, "Mira, ready up missile pod 1-5, tracking missiles, take out those engines on the freighter." Then, the pirate formation fired their main laser turrets, explosions hitting the Saint Jones of Ark, manned mostly of the Catholic minority. He looks at the captain of the Jones, asking, "Damage report?" The Captain responds with, "Secondary Fire Control station damaged, minor injuries." He nods, and says, "Fire at will at the corvette at the left, take out the turrets and engines, prepare boarding parties." Suddenly, the Mira opens up with the missiles, striking along the engines, resulting in a ball of fire as one of the missiles hit the engines, the ship stopping dead in it's tracks. The flagship of the squadron, the Neptune, opened up with it's laser cannons, hitting some of the cargo containers, blowing them open and damaging the hull of the ship.

The Rear admiral orders the ships to fire a missile barrage at the enemy ships to destroy their engines and weapons. The Rear admiral gives the signal, and missile pods burst open, type type 46 missiles launching and hitting the ships, damaging or destroying engines and destroying some gun batteries. 3 dropships launch from each of the ships, totaling 9 dropships barreling towards the pirate ships. 3 dropships will take on each Pirate vessel, and hopefully take it over.

Pirates Emerge from the Flight decks when the dropships land, but the chainguns on the front of the dropships cut down many of the pirates before they open fire. Marines emerge from the dropship, taking cover behind anything they can find, killing many of the pirates on each ship. Within a few hours, the gun batteries are down, within 50 more minutes, the Bridges have been secured. The 6 ships form together, beginning a warp jump to the Prison Facility on Norfolk


Chamber of the Congress of People
"...and so the congress has voted in favor of deploying unmanned dronesto find bordering species that might pose a threat to our Republic. Does the President of the Congress Approve this?" The President of the Congress nods, the Announcer nodding and typing something down. He looks up, saying, "Well, that's all for today, have a nice day." The Congress members begin to leave, grabbing suitcases and exiting the chamber room.

Weapons Research Lab, Norfolk
The Presentation teams walks to the observation deck with the Secretary of Defense and War, one says, "This weapon, attached to the mech, can turn men to ash when hit, we call it The Zeus cannon." In the testing room, state police force in a heard of convicts, these are rapists, murderers, and other types of high status criminals. The Mech turns to face the convicts, when one of them press the button, the sound of a engine winning fills the room, then what looks like lightning shoots out at the convicts, burning them alive, turning them to ashes in a matter of seconds. The Secretary claps, and asks, "When can we see this on the battlefield?" The team looks at him and says, "We can begin manufacturing with your approval, then maybe within a few months you can see them on mechs."

[True Refuge]

The Order of the Winged Eye

---

T͚̭͠h̴̰͔͎̼̦e̱̹͖̫͔ ̨͇̲͉̜̥̭̯Ḥa̯͞n̨͙̤̳͇̫̟d̨̝͎̮̰̯̬s ̶o̼̩͖̮͇̘͜f̜̞̮ ̩̪̟̤͎̤̣͢ţ̱̬̜̣h̗̩é͕ ͎S͏͇̫e̞̘̕v҉͎̲͕͉e̵̘͈ͅn͉ ̠hąv̶͇̜̥̫e̸͓͈ ̼̞̰mo͖̝͍̝ͅr̘͚̣͘e̤̙͔̟͓͈̩ ̺̼̜͕̳i̲͚̹͕̗̝m̯̱̗͞p̵̝̞͉̩o̸̞̭̱͉̪̣r̫̥̹t̜a͙͡ǹ̖͎t͖͉̫̬̙ b̧̩̪͖̩̞̤͎u͢s̯i̻̪̞͇͇ǹ̬e̠͘s̬͓s͓͎͔͍ ̲͉̥͍͙̹̀t̳̩o̷̰̗̲̘̫̝̹ ͏̥͈a̻̳̘͇ͅtt̢ẹ͚n͈d͍ ̖̻̦̭̱͕t͏o̫͉͔̫͜ͅ.͕̝̞̹͝

]

D̛͖̬̗̦̰i̥͝r̕e͎c̗̖̝͉͎t̲̫͖͜ ̫̪̘̯͡y̲̟̭͚o̜u͕̤̥̯̭̗̣r̺ ̰̦̲͚̤̹̟͠i̡̜̠ͅg̸̖̖̥͙͇n̼͓̗͞o̶̭͔̩͓r̳̥̬̬͇ạ̟͉̥͖͢n̲̲͍͙̻͚̕c̜̝̬͉̩̺ę̙̮̲̦ ̜̳̬̘͉͍el͈̟͎̼̬̣̯s̲͍̪̖e̛̟ͅw͔͔͈͢ͅhe̛̦͙̞̱̬̳ͅr̺e̷,̵̗͕̜̦̘ ̱w̟̭r̟̖̮̺e̸̬ṭ̶̬̞̜̯̻̥c͙̫̫ḩ̞̹ͅͅes̮̻̦̝̞̱͓.̹̗̺

---

Learn from the Red Church.

Join TRUTHNET.

Reclaim the Primary Containment Zone.

Go to the facility where quartz met steel.

Find the archive of the distraught.

Be ready for the highest servants.

You will learn much.

You will know all.

Praise the Seven.

Death to the King.

---

EXPEDITION ONE
THE VRESH HIVE
Saulara, Juraxi System, Vresh Dead Zone

---

With just as much fluidity as it had begun its journey, the squire’s right hand returned to his side. It kept still, a simple cog of perfect posture immobilised, as the target’s machine-speech droned on. There was to be no demonstration today. The resulting disappointment from the expedition approached palpability. Lacking a threat to interrupt them, the Order’s forces scanned the battlefield and the flaming wreck of the Vresh ship. Bullet casings clinked as soldiers’ boots struck them together. The most newly ejected were still warm. Four Vresh drones laid neutralized, riddled with scuffs and holes. The soldiers held back their celebrations and set upon completing yet more checklists.

As the target finished and took a step, the squire followed suit, maintaining a careful eye contact, keeping attention. A soft pop came from a short distance away and in a moment a dart struck the target in the neck, releasing a much weaker version of the nerve-jam. Without control over its muscles, the target fell to the ground, suddenly without its senses as its nerves struggled to overcome the useless noise pulsing through them. A medic carefully administered a sedative soon after and gave their affirmations. As soon as it had set in, the expedition went into a flurry of action. The second-in-command issued several orders in rapid-fire. Such instructions were more of a reminder than anything, since the soldiers had already jogged back a distance to retrieve their cloaks and take inventory of the fallen.

Two black dots appeared on the horizon, approaching rapidly. One slowed noticeably. The sniper and rocket teams packed up their equipment and scrambled off to meet it while the other hurtled towards the smoky fires dangerously close to the target’s limp body. Two of the squire’s squad, carrying their cloaks on their shoulders and guns hanging by their slings, shifted it away from the patches of soil saturated with burning fuel.

The squire too joined in the expedition’s look-around. He was already drafting the report. A great success would be reported. Objective completed smoothly, target in custody and a mere six casualties. That his vetted squad had escaped irreparable injury was pleasing. It had been a great risk putting their best operators on the forefront, but evidently, the Seven’s grace had touched them in reward of his unwavering service. Perhaps it would grant its fallen devotees the same fortune. Verdigris would do its best, holding them and their great deeds for all faithful to see. Perhaps one of the Hands of the Seven would give them the highest honour and sit quietly in the shadows, observing the proceedings. Many hoped their ceremony would be seen by one of them and their life approved. It was a high bar to meet.

The second stealthship decelerated in preparation for landing. Sonic booms from both ships coursed through the field, sending cloaks and grass flapping in the short-lived gale. The two soldiers who dragged the target out of the fire hoisted it up on their shoulders without complaint. Another medic formed up beside them with another dose of sedative at the ready while her colleagues tended to wounds and the one woman who lay dying in battle’s inevitable way.

By the time the main force’s transport arrived, the first carrying the specialists was already preparing for their lift-off. One of the medics helped life fade while the bodies were dragged onto the ship through its narrow ramp. The squire supervised the proceedings from just past the entrance, offering a short prayer for the exemplary and each of the six sacrifices the expedition had made as they passed by. In return, they gave their respect.

It was when the ship finally lurched upwards and the crew had locked the target in the reinforced Faraday cage that the cheering began: boisterous oaths and shouts echoing through the quarters. A few whispers made their way to the bridge, where the squire stood once more with his second-in-command close by ensuring that the discipline of the pilots never broke. Indeed, when the squire authorised the bombing, there was no hesitation to let the napalm-like fire rain down, erasing most of the evidence of the attackers, casings and the flesh of the drones in favour of black, lifeless streaks.

It took the expedition only a few minutes to accelerate at high gees to escape the atmosphere, and from there the warp drives engaged. The black spots disappeared into space, leaving the Vresh fleets and the Hive's rage far behind.

[Zanera]

Ghark
Bunker Under Dax Regalia
Raxus Prime

---

"I swear if I have to rewire the subspace comparator one more time, I'll blast the whole unit and eyeball the damn ascent!" shouted Helx, rubbing his blistered fingers. He had already shocked himself twice after he forgot to shut down power to that area of the ship. He had probably learned his lesson, but getting electrocuted was probably an unnerving experience, especially for someone learning from a manual. The ship was a small luxury yacht, something that would hardly be out of place around Union Station, something that would be auspicious for the second phase of their attack, which was getting past the defensive perimeter of destroyers and cruisers. If what Ghark was supposed to do worked, however, the plan would fail in its first phase.

The ship was hidden in a underground hangar that could enclose something called a helicopter under heavy, blast-resistant bay doors. The helicopter would carry the leader of a nation to the bunker and then land in it, when the nation was in its final throes after an enemy invasion. No one currently in the bunker complex cared if it had ever had to withstand bombardment, if it had ever even housed the person it was built to protect. It made for a great place to hide the cell, and that was all they needed. Personally, Ghark thought their lack of historical enthusiasm was boring.

A shack had been dismantled to open the bay doors for the yacht, and now that the bay doors had been closed, the former tenants of the destroyed shack had rebuilt their house. They had been paid well with food and clean water, but Ghark still thought it was mean to dismantle someone's shack, and it'd have to be dismantled again just before their plan was put into action. At this rate, though, the shack-dwellers would have lived out their lives. There were a mere two working on inwardly weaponizing the yacht. The rest were running about keeping the bunker from collapsing or fighting off gangs or securing food and other supplies. About once a week, when their benefactor was ready to deliver supplies, they had to form a security detail around him as they went through suspicious alleyways, the drunkard wanting the romantic feel of terrorism without its inconveniences. It was probably one of the reasons why the plot had been discovered. Thank Loxa for drunk benefactors.

"Go fiddle with the gangsters then. We need someone to weaponize a yacht, not a whiner," said Jox. She was a woman from Raxus Secundus, and the leader of the cell. Helx stalked back up the ramp of the yacht, rubbing his fingers and cursing under his breath. Jox turned to Ghark from across the hanger. "What're you looking at? You need to look at that manual, not us."

He looked back at his manual. It was tedious stuff to read. Power distributors, console electrical pathways, sensor transmitter alignment. He had thought his work as a spy would be more dangerously exciting, well, he was about to die of boredom. At least they were giving him access to just about any part of the ship. You buff out a dented door piston with a hammer and suddenly you were an engineering expert. The agency was supposed to plant his bugs in a small crate with a few dozen oscillators. He was reading all about oscillators so he could be the one to get his hands on the crate. One of the heaters chugged off. A guard kicked it, and it chugged back on. It was horrible in the bunker. The lighting was poor, the heating was untrustworthy, half the floor was covered in brown water, and each dish available involved thresher rats. Tails, hindquarters, and anything else that tasted less bitter than the head of the rodent. Ghark had started to think about raw caiman eggs when the benefactor fell into the hangar from one of the branching passageways.

"A slippery slope around every corner. If I had built this place, there would be no slippery slopes. Don't break the oscillators sliding on the slippery slope!" said the benefactor as he was helped up. He wore an expensive temperature-control vest over a tight metallic shirt tucked into metallic trousers, now shedding off whatever tainted water that wasn't retained by the fabric. There were very few slopes in the bunker complex that Ghark knew of, and none of them were around the hangar area. The benefactor was just drunk, as he always seemed to be. Though he wasn't very great to be around, Ghark still approached the crate of oscillators one of the temporary bodyguards was holding. He grabbed it from them and set it on a barrel, opening it. "I've been reading up on oscillators. I'll get these hooked up to the dead explosion circuits," Ghark said, taking the crate up the ramp and into the small ship. There was a storage closet chock full of dense explosives. It could be uniquely unnerving to work around them, even if they weren't connected to the explosion circuits yet. The problem was that the storage closet wasn't in the bridge, and the bugs that the agency had given him needed to be planted in its control circuits.

Ghark was halfway through installing the new oscillators when a shout from the bridge signaled a new burn on Helx's fingers. A couple of minutes later Helx stomped through the ship, Ghark quickly snatching up the small silver bugs from under the oscillator packaging and putting them in his pockets. Halx stomped up to Ghark and explained," One of the oscillators in the comparator system is burned out. Have a spare?"

"We got a few dozen and we only need twenty. Need any help?"

"Haven't heard that question in a long time. Once I install the new oscillator I need you to see how the bridge controls react to the new subspace comparator system."

"I'll keep installing these oscillators while you install yours. Call me when you're ready."

Installing the oscillators was a repetitive but ultimately easy task. Three more oscillators had been installed in the explosion circuits before Halx called him up to the bridge. Halx was fiddling around in a panel in the wall. "Alright, try the engine controls."

Ghark walked up to the engine controls and began upping and lowering the various inputs and outputs. "Alright, it seems to be reading fine. Try the life support controls."

Ghark sat in one of the chairs, raising and lowering the temperature and oxygen levels. "Before you kill us, yes, that one's good too. Now try the communication control."

Ghark lowered the range of the subspace communications down to a meter, and Halx said," That one needs a little adjusting. Electrical signals are 1.5 too low."

"Alright," said Ghark. He got the screwdriver and opened the panel up, combing through each wire connection until he found one that was loose. He shoved it back into its socket, and the signal was then where it was supposed to be. Ghark put the panel door back. "Alright, now the navigational controls."

Ghark charted a course for two hundred meters just past Union Station. "Damn, there's almost no signal to compare. There's some loose shit in that panel."

I got it," assured Ghark. He took the panel door off and began adjusting wires. He looked at Halx. Halx was busy looking into the signal readings, so Ghark slid the bugs out of his pocket and began attaching them. "Need 8.5 more, Ghark."

Ghark went back to readjusting the wires as soon as he was finished. "There. Everything's fine now," said Halx. Ghark made sure to put the navigational panel back on quickly. "You can go finish installing those oscillators, before Jox whips us."

He went back to installing the oscillators. He had planted the bugs, he could leave the bunker through some hole in the guard rounds and then escape away. But there was a week before the plan was to be put into action, one week where the bugs could be discovered, and their plan to destroy Union Station made successful. Nope, Ghark had to be there as the bugs activated. He knew he had accepted a dangerous mission, but as the day neared he grew more and more anxious and began to wonder, How crazy am I?

[Tysklandia]

Federal Republic of Corundum
Corundan Federal Navy, Fleet Sector SEO-14
Aboard the Halberd-class destroyer Pioneer
Approaching NA-443 system, 17th of August, 2533


-snip-

2533 - 16th of August, 2533, 02:15:02 EST (Earth Standard Time)
NA-443 system - Outer-asteroid belt
Cerberus Black site -A-022 - Engineering B-block security bunker
Project Xeno-998 - Chapter I

"WARNING, DECOMPRESSION EVENT DETECTED. ENGINEERING A-BLOCK SEALED. ALL ENGINEERING PERSONEL, PLEASE PROCEED TO ENGINEER A-BLOCK FOR REPAIRS."

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/6b/65/14/6b6514af840d230b97d59aa5c3cbe0aa.jpg

In the dimly lit chamber that constituted the security bunker underneath Engineering B-block, two figures sat exhausted. A young woman, clad in a white and black jumpsuit, covered in sensor ports and a stasis pod interfacing module attached to her back. Her hair was still wet from her crude awakening from said stasis-pod just an hour earlier. She sat on a crate as she tinkered with a spherical data-interface, projected by a small spider-droid acting as a holographic projector and data-storage unit, normally too complex for human minds to comprehend and generally used by AI to quickly store and read information. Her unnatural dull pink eyes seeing and taking in information no human should be able to comprehend.

"I suppose the warning means the rest of the security team has failed..."

Her counterpart was a man, whose eyes showed a sickening combination of harrowing trauma and pure exhaustion. He had slid on the floor, his back to a wall, seemingly losing the strength to remain on his feet. His distinct white and yellow Cerberus armored suit stained in dried red and black liquid splatters, bullet holes and unnaturally deep gashes and scratches. His dull blue eyes seemed dazed, but it was difficult to ascertain if it was due to the cocktail of drugs that kept his battered body from caving in to the physical trauma and fatigue, or due to the emotional trauma sustained in the past 24 hours. His hands trembled as he held his rifle pointed towards the only other human being in the room.

"You should ensure I don't get captured, the protocol says tha-"

"I KNOW what the protocol says . Just shut up and let me think!"

The man gritted his teeth as he barked out his shaky reply. A mix of uncertainty, anger and even a sliver of insanity seeped through his trembling voice. His finger had the trigger pressed up to just before the point of firing, trembling visibly. The woman smiled slightly as she raised her hand and adjusted something on the holographic interface before it shifted and disappeared. The droid its exterior holographic emitter then closed, before the legs retracted and the droid deactivated, leaving naught but a pure white orb lying on the floor.

"The data sphere is complete... If the containment team arrives, nothing will have been lost. My experiment can be recreated if I were to die... Nothing would be lost, but time..." The girl looked at her own hands for a moment, before she finished. "And resources..."

The girl picked up the orb and laid it down next to her as she straightened her back, staring at the wall in front of her. With no response from the man behind her, she continued, closing her eyes- as her hands trembled in anticipation.

"If the 998 finds me, let alone the Formican or even the Tagali? Imagine would they would do with me? With the things I know, it is too dangerous, you must follow the protocol Sheppard, there is no other choice."

The soldier, known as Corporal Sheppard stayed silent, gritting his teeth as he raised his rifle for a moment, before voicing his doubts. "How do I know this is a choice I am making... How do I know it’s not the voices, how do I know you are real? Is this choice mine or that thing deciding for me? How do I know what is real ?"

The girl didn't respond immediately but shrugged after a few moments. She responded after a few seconds of awkward silence. "I don't know..."

The soldier cursed loudly as he slammed the back of his head against the wall, allowing the THUNCK to slowly echo across the room. They both remained silent for a few minutes more, before, seemingly out of nowhere, Sheppard made his choice and pulled his trigger.

---

2533 - 17th of August, 2533, 06:33:02
NA-443 system - Outer-asteroid belt
Cerberus Black site -A-022 - Maintenance tunnel B-032
Project Xeno-998 - Chapter II

Dull red emergency lighting was all that illuminated the tight corridor, flickering as power fluctuated. Piping and wiring lined the walls, and grated metal floor plates made every step horribly loud, sending noise reverberating throughout the corridor with each step.
Sheppard leaned against a wall, glancing quickly left and right as he clutched his rifle like a lifeline. His HUD was flashing with warnings detailing fluctuating life signs and failing suit-systems, the crushing headache that reverberated inside his head made his vision swirl, ensuring it was near impossible to focus, turning the world into a haze of unclear and conflicting colors and shapes.

Sheppard leaned back, trying unsuccessfully to cancel out the static noises that rang in his ears, to focus his eyes back on reality. Unable to do anything else, he moved onto the tablet affixed to his left arm, typing on memory to activate a combat stimulant. His HUD popped up a warning, saying that his heart and kidneys could likely not sustain another injection of the chemical concoction. Ignoring the warnings, he confirmed and felt a tiny pang of pain as the stimulants coursed through his body. He gasped for air as he felt his heart struggle to function, his mind still ravaged by a migraine that felt like it would burst his skull, but his sight and hearing began to clear. Shapes and malformed colors dissipated and gave way for clear vision. And as he saw clearly, his mind fell into sheer disbelief.

Mere centimeters in front of him, he saw it... The thing... The Experiment... The weapon... The beast. Its eyeless skull looking at him, analyzing him as if curious. Its head tilted, its hot breath fogging in the cold air, time itself ground to a halt for but a moment. Then Sheppard pulled the trigger and gunfire erupted. In less than a second his mind erupted in pain he never felt before, his vision blurred to nearly nothing and but a moment later he felt himself slammed against the wall, then a deep, stinging pain across his abdomen, a searing pain that made his consciousness nearly fade. As his legs failed him, he could only feel himself slide towards the ground, shooting blindly into his surroundings. Then, his mind faded into nothing.

---

---

The wreck of the S.W. Morath - Last Reported Location of the O.P.S. Great Destiny - Deep Space
August 15th, 2533
-snip-

---

The Maw - Borders of the Slav'nam Territories/Ostian Protectorate
40th of 'Kusovai in the Era of Brotherhood 1046 (August 30th, 2533)

"Received your transmission. You have permission to board the S.W. Fin'skrta's main hanger bay. We await your arrival." The shuttle was received into the aft hanger bay of the Fevo'sha Battlecruiser. The hanger itself had the customary red tinted lighting which was common aboard all Slav'nam warships. The hanger was filled with miscellaneous transports, cargo containers, and even two or three fighters. The fighters existed more for protecting the transports than anything. A small party of Slav'name waited for the Dominion agents.

The party of Slav'name were lead by Brigadier General Hewa herself. She along with those around her were wearing the standard N'ratan Clan's combat harness. Though unlike the rest of her party, she did not wear the signature helmet and her right shoulder piece was more pronounced than the rest of her armor. "It is a good thing that all these warriors are loyal to the clan. We don't need to worry about traitors," Hewa mused to herself.

[/size]

2533 - August, 2533
Slav ‘am Territories - The Maw
Taskforce "Moskva" - TNS-99332 "Romanov"
TMI Special warfare project "Caesar" - Chapter II

As the shuttle moved into the hanger bay, its wings slowly folded into itself, landing gently after adjusting to the artificial gravity inside the landing area. A minute slowly passed as air vented out of the shuttle as the atmosphere inside was equalized. Soon after, a plateau was lowered from the sizeable shuttle, contacting the floor with a loud thud...

Soon enough, a handful of [url=marines]https://img00.deviantart.net/04eb/i/2013/027/b/5/galaxy_saga___soldier_of_the_poison_planet_by_djahal-d5swlga.jpg[/url] exited, flanking Colonel [url=Alexandra Ikana]https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/001/350/114/large/yury-krylou-char7-3.jpg?1444846852[/url]. Their armor was adorned with the Owl symbol of Terran Military Intelligence, signifying the ancient goddesses of knowledge, Athena and Minerva. The marines formed a line in front of the shuttle, their weapons placed stock-first onto the ground as they stood at attention. Alexandra herself walked forward, a dull-white orb shaped drone with a bright red illuminated "eye" scanning the surroundings, following her with every step.

The Colonel her eyes were dull-white, an unnatural color for humans, one mostly linked to acute blindness. Her confident stride and the way she tilted her head to look up into the eyes of General Hewa, would make it seem she was very much capable of "seeing" the alien in front of her. She Addressed her counterpart in their native language, in a very thick human accent mind you, but she did speak the language.

<* Slav'nam > "I bring greetings from the Dominion, General. I am Alexandra of the Terran people. I hope you have not had difficulty arranging our meeting."

Alexandra smiled slightly, her dull-white eyes analyzing the creature towering in front of her with an analytical gaze as she waited for a response.

---

---

UF-742-7 System
Terran Federal State Void-Space
Super-Cargo Ship “Yikuithrod”

Warping in hot, the super-cargo ship, Yikuithrod, measuring 18 kilograms long, would find its itself in empty void-space that was administered by the Terran Federal State. A trio of automated sensor stations in wide orbit around the sun could be seen. The crew of the Yikuithrod were extremely busy fixing critical subsystems. Their warp-drive, after being targeted by a massive boarding party of 1,560, was in a non-functional state after they jumped into the UF-742-7 System. The Yikuithrod itself was made from a hulled out asteroid with scrap metal and parts of ship attached to it.

Soon a message was sent to the Yikuithrod.

"WARNING, YOU HAVE TRESPASSED IN DOMINION TERRITORY. ATTEMPTING TO PENETRATE FURTHER WILL BE CONSIDERED A HOSTILE ACTION AGAINST THE TERRAN FEDERAL REPUBLIC.”

The Yikuithrod was in no place to move or even do a FTL-jump with its current shape.

Another message was sent shortly after.

“A TERRAN NAVAL SHIP HAS BEEN DETACHED TO INTERCEPT."

For now, the crew of the Yikuithrod waited, trying to fix its heavily fucked up ship - which would take at least a week due to the amount of damage sustained. So, they had to be stationary for all intents and purposes..

2533 - August 15th, 2533
System UF-742-7 - Space around EWS (Early Warning System) station UF-742-7-A
Surprise Visit I.

For days, the message would repeat the same exact content. Never changing or giving an indication of imminent arrival. After 6 days however, probes would suddenly exit warp around the sensor stations. After gaining their bearings, the probes would approach the foreign ship, circling it at a fair distance, subjecting the encroaching element to in depth scans and analysis. A mere hour after the arrival the drones, did a fleet exit warp, at the edge of effective Heavy-weapons range.

Initially a single thin-blue line cut into the fabric of reality. Extending for over a hundred meters wide, before expanding into a 2-dimensional bright-blue square. This was the apex of Terran warp-technology. A stable entry and exit into the sub-space dimensions in which warp-travel occurred. Mere moments after the exit-point stabilized, a vast warship was expended, sliding gently into real-space. The [url=Invicta-class Heavy-Cruiser]https://scontent-bru2-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t31.0-8/11051897_10153177598649394_6920115609548673410_o.jpg?_nc_cat=111&_nc_ht=scontent-bru2-1.xx&oh=a97ad46bdb3f073156a672d1aefa7ffd&oe=5C421EA8[/url] was the pride and glory of the Dominion navy. Its technological and military marvel, that had allowed it to gain immense strides in the Tagali war in the past decade gave it a reputation unmatched in Dominion Naval history.

The massive berth of the 2.8 km long warship floated gently for but a few moments, before it erupted into activity. parts of the armor moved and revealed hundreds of magnetic rail tubes, which would allow the warship to deploy its waves of fighter craft swiftly. Entire Batteries of heavy-railguns were raised from their protective casings, appearing across the hull as they pointed towards the massive craft, still hundreds of kilometers away, too far away for human eyes to see.
A massive armored slab retracted on the keel of the warship, revealing three massive Barrels, laid into the entire spine of the warship, displaying its primary weapon systems, laid bare towards the enemy as the capacitors of the warship began charging.

After those few fleeting seconds, in which the TNS-44871 "Asterix" had been alone, did three dozen tears in real space appear adjacent to the TNS-Asterix. Three other Invicta-class warships joined their sister, as well as a flotilla of various frigates, a pair of destroyers and a light-carrier. The entire battlegroup mimicked the actions of the Asterix and apparently prepared for combat. With their shields raised and the capacitors of their various weapon systems charging, did the TNS Asterix compose a message for the surprise interlopers into Dominion Territory...

2533 - August 15th, 2533
System UF-742-7
Battlegroup Optica - Flagship TNS-44871 "Asterix"
Deck 33-B Primary CIC
Surprise Visit II.

Rear Admiral Marcus Fenris did not like his current assignment. The sudden arrival of a Tier 7 class threat in rear-lines of the outer-rim, had strewn a panic in the Admiralty. With many of the fleets in repair and refit or on patrol in the aftermath of the first-phase of Operation Invicta, the sudden arrival of a Tier-7 class ship inside Dominion territory, that had apparently bypassed Dominion patrols without even being noticed. With flotillas and small taskforces already being deployed and moved into deep-space to scout for other possible approaching warships.

Marcus had been tasked with assembling a taskforce capable of "dealing" with the Tier-7 ship, appearing into Dominion territory. Not an easy feat, as Dominion warships capable of matching a Tier-7 on something nearing equal footing, numbered in the low single digits. He had pulled several ships from picket duty and others from patrols-groups nearby to assemble Battlegroup Optica whilst advising sector-command to prepare a large force, incase their Interception was... Unsuccessful.

"Have you finished your analysis, Cleo?" Marcus paced around the central holographic emitter that was the center-piece of most Terran CIC's. It currently displayed the position of BG Optica and the foreign vessel, along with distance and the various gunnery calculations that were constantly being updated. The standard Dominion Naval AI, MCAI-66511, oft nicknamed "Cleopatra" assumed a humanoid form, projected by the emitters placed across the CIC. She stood next to the holographic map, staring at the foreign ship, as if analyzing it.

"Our sensors collaborate the information gathered earlier, Rear-Admiral. Its origin is likely Conglomerate, although they have never travelled into our quadrant, as far as our records are concerned..."

The aging admiral sighed loudly and pinched his noise with his right hand, frustrated by the situation. "Give me the rundown again, what do we have on record on these aliens?"

The AI, projected to resemble the famous Egyptian Queen of old, waved her hand, visualizing a series of reports and captured intelligence from Tagali sources.

"They are an enigma sir. They have strange priorities, and there are mixed reports of a simple and barbaric social structure and others detailing a more sophisticated structure, but still highly chaotic by our standards. The bulk of their species also seems to contain large amounts of DNA damage and extensive and... for the lack of a better explanation, strange genetical adjustments to their base DNA code, physical appearance and..."

Marcus raised his hand, silencing the AI as he groaned out his frustration. The galaxy seemed filled with nutjobs and genocidal maniacs. Glancing at the holographic map dominating the room, he gave his commands.

"Transit the first contact package and following it up a voice transmission..." The Ai nodded before motioning for the Admiral to speak.

"I am Rear-Admiral Marcus Fenris of the Terran Dominion Navy. You have entered Sovereign Terran space. Attempting to power up your shields or weapon systems will be considered a hostile action and will be dealt with as such. We demand an explanation as to your unlawful entry into Dominion territory and the violation of our sovereign borders."

Before the message would be send, a first contact package would be transmitted, detailing the structure and meaning of the English language, embedded into a complex mathematical system, normally translatable by any AI or sophisticated digital analysis system.

---

2533 - July, 2533
System BRH-781 system - Low orbit of BRH-781-2
TCS-999231 "Ishimura"
Skanar Mining Expedition PME-1119834

-WIP-

---

[The Empire of Tau]

UF-742-7 System
Terran Federal State Void-Space
Super-Cargo Ship “Yikuithrod”

“Hi there. Sorry that we encroached onto your borders. We had to do a emergency warp to avoid a band of pirates. Most of our subsystems are still in repair. Also thanks for your package - although we did not need it.”

That was a transmitted message sent to the Terran ships. The info package upon the English language was a nice touch too, but their language could be easily translated by the onboard local eldritch linguist. Not much was going on the Yikuithrod (besides the fact that they were all in heavy repair mode). The ship was carrying large amounts of gasses of various kinds - used for industrial purpose. Luckily, no leaks or containment issues were present.

So the questions begs, why the hell is a Colcong cargo ship (which belonged to the Union of Scavengers) is all the way out here? Well, you see, a capital venture was setup mine operationing near around Freelands and Terran space. It was revealed that a abundance of Satramene Gas was within the local system’s gas giants - weeks back.

Looking for a profit to be haved, the corporations of the Union of Scavengers sent off 150 ships for the venture. Economical activity has been slow due to pirate incursions from the Freelands, but that should has been dealt with the recent arrival of 70 Federation ships. Let’s hope that the neighbors don’t mind their new friends.

[Legatia]

Federal Republic of Corundum
Corundan Federal Navy, Fleet Sector SEO-14
Halberd-class destroyer Pioneer
Marine Boarding Assault Team MBAT 62
NA-443 system, 17th of August, 2533


"HANGAR DOORS- OPEN"

The massive hangar bay was opened wide as the team interfaced. Shuttles, ringing the walls, all looked intentionally damaged- blaster holes, detonations, wings shorn off or engines sabotaged- all originating from the hulk of a wrecked corvette within. Perhaps one and a half times the size of what would classify as a missile cutter within the Federal Navy, the corvette here was beyond salvage.

"..That's a plasma overcharge. Someone must have overspooled the engine in a panic or deliberately supercharged it to the point of a critical detonation." One Marine noted, kneeling at the floor. "Burn marks indicate quite the same."

"..Hey, that's not the only thing..!" A worried voice called, eliciting an attentive response from the group. "..Holy shit, there's.. a ton of bodies here." The group nearly turned on that heel, as the light wispy smoke concealing some of the floor revealed lacerated bodies beyond recount. Wounds that ran thin and rough wounds caused by something a lot less sharp were varied. Gunshots, from pistols to what seemed awfully similar to Gauss rifle rounds tearing ball-sized chunks of flesh from bodies, littered the jumpsuit or armor clad individuals. The Corporal gagged, turning his head away from the sights as two other Sergeants approached it, frowning in revulsion.

"..There's nothing we can do." One disheartened Marine shook his head, his helm lights sweeping across the bloodstained floors.

Gunnery Sergeant Tarley shook his head. "..Virgil, Rider. The bay should be opened now, it's a bit too small for Pioneer but it is definitely a tad too large for normal mining ops. Something's happened here- there are a mass amount of bodies on the floor and a ton of makeshift damage control" He regarded that as another group of Marines inspected a freshly welded door that was sealed shut."..We're pushing deeper in."

Virgil, the gunship, leveled off with arcjets in view of the hangar, the optical camera scanning the room. "We copy. We're going to hold just outside for you to relay to Pioneer." Tarley simply returned a thumbs up, and lead the team back into the corridor.

Their footsteps, metallic clinks as they connected to the underpowered grav plates, led the marines to the cross-marked hospital bay. An enormous pool of blood temporarily interrupted the magboots of the lead Sergeant, who took an instinctive step forward. The door here was jammed, yet not blocked.

"..Step aside." One of the men brought forward a pneumatic tool and jammed it into the doorway, and within ten seconds the door was broken. Using his exoskeleton to force the steel thing out of his way, the two plates loudly slammed onto the floor, sending another slick of blood outwards, and a low rumble that made the weaponry of the team lift instinctively. "..Holy fuck."

When the initial paranoia had cleared, they noticed an even worse scene than the hangar. Bodies, some still warm, were torn open- some via surgery, some via bullets and sharp objects. Strewn across the floors, on tables, rifles and medical equipment lay scattered on the floor, collecting blood as lights shined over across the densely packed bay. There was no discrimination made here- it was an absolute panic, it wasn't hard to tell- nurses and doctors lay both slumped over patients and near exits, soldiers against walls and at doors. Burn and bullet marks peppered the walls, and after a few steps the lead man came to terms with stepping on bodies. Humans, the thought now came to him. These weren't Terrans. These were humans, just like them. Murdered and left.

"..Our father who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name.." The Marines were unnerved. Most of them had a few years under their belt- they'd seen genetically modifed and mutated women used in sex trafficking. They'd see child slaves aboard freighters. They'd seen death, they'd seen murder.. but nothing as primal, as brutal as this. Something so unnecessarily bloody, so over excessively thorough. It was unthinkable, almost- and terrifying when the thoughts came of how this had came to pass.

"..Any of them alive?" Tarley asked, half-knowing it was in vain as one soldier read the nametags off a doctor as he moved her half-destroyed body off of an expired patient. "..Thermals are dead cold, sir. They're long gone." Tarley went to sigh- but a gunshot echoed through the walls, immediately alerting all of the men- they were not alone.

"..Where?!" They scrambled, weapons once more aimed in every direction.

"Down the hall! That way, go!" The heavy bootsteps and crunch of bones by the alerted men resounded terribly throughout the metallic hallways as they punched through deeper and deeper towards the sound of the gunshot. And soon after more came, this time even closer..

[Northern Poland]

Above Surface Hanger Bay, Valhalla
17:00 Hours
August 18th

Scout ships sat in a row of 10, being repaired and fueled for the trip ahead. Ground crews prepped the ships for take off, and the hanger bay door opened, a wave of bright light shining into the hanger. The ships lifted off in a VTOL fashion, flying out of the atmosphere. They then disappeared in a blue orb, being warped to find new Races. The Plan was if a ship found the aliens, it would send a signal back to base, and a Research Vessel, and 3 corvettes, would warp near the ship to study the Aliens from afar. If the aliens approached, the ships would warp away to avoid interactions.

Shipyards of Valhalla

Corvettes are too small, but don't cost much, and Destroyers are a bit expensive, but have good size and weapons. The Navy designed a new ship, the Endurance Class Frigate, a ship with good firepower, but isn't as expensive. Ship yards previously constructing Corvettes will now be switched over to building frigates. The first frigate will come out within 2-3 solar weeks

Official Decree of the Chamber of People

The Chamber of People have declared, because of the possibility of discovering other races, we must raise the Activeness of Our Units. The Standard Active Units will rise from the 9 Infantry Legions (250,000 Each) 3 Motorized Legions (270,000 Each) 4 Armored Legions (180,000 Men, 7,000 Tanks) 3 Mech Legions (100,000 Men, 9,000 Mechs) 6 Marine Legions (120,000 Each) and 2 Special Operation Legions(AKA, The Spartan Project legions) (60,000 Each), to the Hightened Standard of 13 Infantry Legions, 5 Motorized Legions, 6 Armored Legions, 5 Mech Legions, 8 Marine Legions, and 4 Special Operation Legions. The C standard Units, Home Guard, Reserve Legions, and Paramilitary Units, Will be raised to B readiness, able to be activated in a month. Some of these units will stay in C readiness, because of the mass size of everything. The Republic's fleet will have a now active 3 Dreadnoughts, 2 carriers, 10 Cruisers, 15 Destroyers, and 20 Corvettes.

(Notice: Written With Talarian Approval)

Edge of Talarian Space

5:00 Hours
August 22
Wrrr.... Attempting Connection
Connection Established
Warning: Spacefaring Vessel Detected

One of the scout ships came out of warp, ending up near a seemingly habitable planet, and the cameras saw a shape next to the planet. The cameras zoomed in on it, revealing it to be what seemed to be a warship, the ship sent the recordings back, waiting for backup.

Norfolk Shipyards

Signal Received
Threat level of Unidentified Ship: Medium
Sending Ships
The Rear Admiral, Our old friend Jameston, happened to have stayed In Norfolk, and was pushed in command of the small Squadron of ships. He agreed, seeing a way of a promotion, hopefully. He taps the desk, and then a Aide runs in, He Says, out of air, "Word from the Scout ship, Alien World discovered, possible warships in orbit." Jameston stood, pointing to his navigator, "Warp to the Scout Ship!" He turned to his Communications officer, saying, "Tell the other ships! Tell them to follow us!"

Edge of Talarian Space

Link Established
Ships In range of Unknown Vessel
Reporting to High Command
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GDeeonselA Play when reading the part of Crew Going to positions)
Jameston's squadron Jumped into the Area, the Scout ship taking up a rear defense position behind the Research Ship. Marines aboard the Corvettes Prepared for a possible combat operation, they needed to be prepared for any situation. Crew Members ran about, going to battle stations or other duties, as ordered by the Admiral himself. A hatch opened on the starboard side of the Research Ship, a small Recon Drone came out and flew into scanning distance, about 2km away from the ship(s). It came out and scanned the ship(s), staying away and analyzing what it could scan and see. It stayed in place, looking at the ships and staying a little bit away.

[Tagali Federation]

Hasa


Hasa quickly ducked into the shadows when he got sight of the drone flying over head, engaging his suits active camo without a second thought. While it would protect him from the sensors of the drone, he would be visible if he moved around too much or too fast. This technology was not of original Tagali design, reverse-engineered from stolen or captured Slave'nam technology, thus could not be recreated perfectly. The Human patrol was approaching closer by the minute. While Head Hunters were extremely skilled in a variety of weaponry and martial arts, it would be suicide to take on all of them by himself. Luckily, Hasa had something that could buy him some time.

Hasa pulled out a cannister from his pouch. Gently, he placed it upright on the ground, making sure not the shake up the contents inside. Smoothly, he undid the cap and gently placed it on the ground. It was a few seconds before anything occurred. Eventually, a small creature the size of a gnat crawled out and took to flight, and then another, and another, and finally, a swarm had begun taking to the air. These creatures looked like regular insect analogues, but upon closer examination would be revealed as a small synthetic creature, armed with tiny pincers and claws and a small micro-laser acting as a stinger. These were the smallest forms of a subject race of synthetics known as the Verga. The Verga had many uses in the Empire, from ship repair and maintenance, defense, and hulking colossi of war. These verga were not powerful individually, but as a swarm, could reek havoc on an area. Any organic creature not recognized as friendly would be torn apart and "stung" by the swarm within a matter of minutes. While the Human's exo-suits would keep them relatively safe, these creatures had a nasty habit of finding their way into small chinks in armor like exhaust ports and breathing apparatus's. With luck, these hulking pieces of armor would become coffins for a few of the Humans. Hasa knew better than to rely completely upon such hopes. These creatures were nothing but a distraction to buy Hasa more time to prepare his other, more deadly traps....

[The Moscow Metro Red Line]

Kah'loth Border Outpost - Kah'loth System - Borders of the Slav'nam Territories
27th of 'Kusovai in the Era of Brotherhood 1046 (August 17th, 2533)

Upon receiving the message from the Colcong's Eldritch being, one of the raiders raised its shields and began to increase its speed. Its long wings began to angle downwards signifying its transition from its cruising to combat status. It fired several bursts from its energy cannons at the Colcong Cruiser. As it did so a message was sent to the other Slav'nam ships from the attacking raider. "This is Captain Rtipo of the Uch'agh! My crew and I shall bring down this affront to our people! This creature is a demon like in the lore! If there is one then there is surely more of them. This ship is the vanguard of an invasion force!"After this transmission was sent, others raiders raised its shields and began their attack vector to the Colcong Cruiser.

"This is Captain Sosze of the L'kan, we shall gladly pursue your attack, Rtipo!"

"This is Captain of Epo the Khus, we will also assist your attack! Lead us to a glorious victory this day, Rtipo!"

The first raider charged full-speed at the cruiser firing its full complement of cannons and anti-ship torpedoes before breaking off. As it did so, the other two raiders moved side by side each other and began unleashing their weapons upon the cruiser. There was no response from the Outpost as the Raiders had not relayed the message from the cruiser back to the Outpost.

Commander Gyrso was confused with the escalating situation. He hasn't received the aliens' transmission but it seemed to have disturbed his warriors who have now began to attack the alien cruiser. "Contact those fools and tell them to cease their assault! And alert the crews of the Avoc and Terf to board their ships. They are to intercept our raiders. If they must disable them, do so." He was unnerved by the transmission sent by Captain Rtipo. Of course, the Captain and his crew were more zealous of the old ways than most them but to openly attack an alien ship was uncharacteristic of him. Whatever transmission they sent, caused this incident to befall themselves.

"Commander, they are not responding! They have received our message but refused to back down."

Gyrso sighed heavily. "Then these are insubordinate officers and crews. The Avoc and the Terf have permission to disable the raiders. I wish to question them personally. Furthermore, alert the aliens that we are not responsible for this insubordination." As the transmission was sent to the Aliens and to the ships, Gyrso's finger gripped tighter around the chair's armrests. Fools. All of them.

This is the Kah'loth Border Outpost to the Colcong. We are not responsible for the actions of these raiders. Two cruisers are being sent to handle the situation.

---

Meeting Chamber of the High Council - The Great Hall - The First City - Slava'Krob - Kah'loth System - The Slav'nam Territories
12th of 'Kotamee in the Era of Brotherhood 1046 (September 11th, 2533)

Slava'Krob, the cradle of the Slav'nam species. This arid and desert world created the hardened, bloodthirsty and violent species. Its wide expanses of desert and rock, with small areas of vegetation and crop growth would encourage strife and competition between the various species which were forced to call this place home. But above them all were the Slav'nam, who not only dominated this planet but many others. Taken literally the name of the planet, Slava'Krob translates to Glory in the Blood. A fitting name for a species like the Slav'nam. Its' capital, the First City, is situated on and around a high plateau surrounded by a mountain range. A large stone wall carved into the plateau gave the upper buildings a more imposing look. From this part of the First City housed the centers of power, the capital residences of the nine great clans, government offices, and the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was the center of power for the territories and the Slav'nam people. It was the keep of the Ten Siblings and this plateau was their former fortress. The buildings around it were built over time during their rule and beyond. This was the building in which they conducted bushiness, entertained guests, held celebrations, trained their warriors, married their children and forged an empire. In the same room which the siblings conducted business, sits the Slav'nam High Council. A rectangular room with ten chairs. The chair at the end of the room and at the center was empty, for this was the chair of the Emperor. Underneath each of the chairs were several more chairs which were noticeably smaller than the ones which the council stood on. Several Slav'nam were present in the room with a single Slav'nam at the center. He wore an ornate red and orange combat harness with a red clock draped around his shoulders. There were other Slav'nam standing near the main door and around the chairs wearing similar armor to him but without the cloak. Each of these guards were armed with polearms. The Slav'nam sitting on the chairs wore similar sets of armor though each piece had their own symbols and honors engraved into it. Additionally they wore long brown vests with different crests sewn upon it.

"Let the meeting begin in earnest", cried the Slav'nam standing at the center of the room. "Let each Council Member present make their presence be known."

"Councilor Theto, Son of Taza. The Grand Architect and the Master Craftsman."

"Councilor Kavo, Son of Xore. The Spymaster and the Chief Peacemaker."

"Councilor Luyo, Daughter of Bosan. The Grand Surveyor."

"Councilor Fovu, Son of Kuto. The Chief Schoolmaster and the Grand Scribe."

"Councilor Opo, Son of Jero. The High Overseer."

"Councilor Baio, Daughter of Greta. The Chief Scholar of Technologies and Master Healer."

"Councilor Khala, Daughter of Liga. The Great Merchant and the Master of Stores."

"Councilor Grozo, Son of Usan. The Master of Blades."

"Councilor Kasan, Son of Gras. The Warmaster."

After each of the Councilors spoke the introduction, the Slav'nam at the center responded. "I, -- Son of --, Captain of the Honor Guard, will take my place as mediator to the proceedings taking place in this sacred room. Let the proceedings begin in earnest." He walked off from the center and stood alongside the chair at the end of the room which was empty. A several holograms appeared at the center of the room. These holograms were tables of statistics, images of planets, profiles of individuals and much more.

Councilor Kavo was the first to speak, "Recently, the Dromack Confederation has sent a message indicting that they would like to begin relations with us. Though other clans have initiated contact with them in the past, I believe that this is the first official message from their government. According to my sources, I believe that they would be interested in military cooperation should relations be better."

"The Dromack Confederation has blood which is similar to ours," Councilor Fovu spoke loudly. "I would agree to such an alliance should it be possible. Our beating hearts will shake the galaxy asunder!"

"That is a poetic gesture, but I believe that we should focus on improving our standing with the Tagali," Councilor Kasan interjected. "As the Warmaster, I recommend that we use our position with the Tagali and the Dromack to strike at the Dominion. Our three armies will be more the sufficient to humble these upstart pests. With current numbers and technological advancements, we will be more effective."

"How does the other members of the Council think of the Dromack's open hand?" Asked Councilor Kavo, glancing at each of his peers.

"I believe that with their cooperation, we can begin to expand our borders into the Gauntlet. Perhaps we will be able to establish military trading posts between our borders to facilitate safer transit. Just as we have done with the Talarians." Councilor Khala spoke candidly. "But now that I have brought out the Talarians, I must ask what is the position of the Council regarding their own Civil War."

Councilor Kasan began typing into a holographic keyboard in front of him. The holograms at the center changed to show an active map of the League of Talarian Republics. "Their Civil War begins in earnest. The Monarchists have struck from the Eastern Fringe and two of their servant species have also rebelled against the Central Government. Currently, I have ordered our forces in the League to maintain a neutral stance and not to support either side. I have also requested that we issue a warning to all of our people residing in the League to evacuate to the Territories. I wish to avoid any incidents involving our citizens. We may then be forced to pick a side."

"In my opinion, it matters little which side we support. Neither of them have made their intentions towards us very clear. Though for the time being, it seems as if the Central Government is losing ground and the Monarchists have the initiative. These lesser species are merely a side show to off-balance the strength of the Central Government," Spoke Councilor Kavo.

"These Talarians have always been viewed by our people as weak and child-like. They had potential to become a great power but instead rot away. These Monarchists may have proven such a stereotype to be wrong but that remains to be seen", commented Councilor Fovu. "Though I recommend that we pick a side which benefits our trade the most. Should we remain idle for too long, it will deteriorate our relationship with them."

"Or we could pursue a different path", Grozo interjected suddenly. "The pieces of territory closest to our borders have a significant minority of Slav'name residing in them. We could in their interests, move troops to protect them from the violence of the war." There was a sudden hush around the room. Each of the Councilors looked at one another.

"I for one say that we have enough Protectorates," replied Councilor Opo. "Our warriors shouldn't get involved in a war for territorial gains. It would be a betrayal to our friendship with the Talarians. They would be justified in making war with us."

"Bah, their tepid hearts are not match for that of a Slav'nam warrior!" Yelled Councilor Fovu. "We will easily cower them into submission! You like the rest of those who follow that Hermit, are too passive and submissive. You would suggest perhaps that we, 'negotiate', with the Talarians to have them hand over their territory to us?"

"You speak as if the task was easy," Retorted Councilor Opo calmly. "You still do not know the process of governing and bureaucracy. Not everyone in the territories is fit for administration and finding those who can are rare. And I would think it is because you encourage everyone on the path of war while ignoring other more important tasks. Am I not wrong, Chief Schoolmaster?"

Councilor Fovu rose from his chair and pointed at Opo. "Where you any other Slav'nam, I would-"

"Enough, let us return to the current topic regarding the Talarians..." Yelled Councilor Kavo.

---

The Maw - Borders of the Slav'nam Territories/Ostian Protectorate
40th of 'Kusovai in the Era of Brotherhood 1046 (August 30th, 2533)
* = Slav'nam Language

Brigadier General Hewa's eyes widened as she heard the woman speak in her tongue. Her left hand rubbed the side of her neck. "You honor me by speaking the voice of my people. You are the first human I have met who has learnt our language." She reached out her hand towards the Colonel. "I am unfamiliar with human culture, though I believe that the shaking of hands is a gesture of friendship. I am Brigadier General Hewa, Daughter of Cosan and of the N'ratan Clan. We will not be disturbed for this meeting."

[The United Remnants of America]

Assassination is the extreme form of censorship.
Grand City, Arkaea, Arkaean Federation

Blur had broken atmosphere. She was almost home free! She'd be able to get out of this system and back to her rendezvous to collect that sweet, sweet payment.

And then everything fell apart.

First, the shuttle alerted her to a what amounted to a weapons lock. That was... Disappointing. Blur, in her haste, had forgotten about the potential for orbital defenses. And of course she was riding in a stolen ship offworld. But as soon as the locks started, they stopped.

Oh? Well, that was lucky. Lucky Blur!

The ship shut down, went dark. All lights winked off. Blur sat silently in the silent ship. Blur glanced around, confused, but trying to fight a growing sense of concern.

This doesn't seem... Entirely good.

Blur sat in the pilot's seat of the shuttle and let out a quiet, concerned mewl.

---

For dangers past - an old soldier laughs.
Unknown Space

Savage came to, but he was confined to a horizontal position. It wasn't tight bondage, but enough to know Savage shouldn't move. His double-layered eyelids didn't open. He didn't need to open them to know he was being watched. Savage laid still, taking inventory of his situation. His cloak had been left on, but he couldn't feel his pack. That meant his translator was gone.

Savage did the only thing he could do. He slowly opened his mouth and let out a rasping scream to get the attention of his minders, showing them he was awake. Maybe they'd also figure out this was the only communication he could offer while being confined as such.

Damnable aliens. He offered to go peacefully and they still acted violently. Savage had forgot how ignorantly violent foreign animals could be outside the Hive. But these things had reminded him. The thrill of adventure was being replaced with the dual sense of cynicism and frustration. So many years he'd been in the deep sections of the Hive, and yet the aliens outside hadn't changed at all.

---

The best weapon against an enemy is another enemy.
Baeturn System, Inferi Sector, Vresh Dead Space

The ships began to move up star, moving towards the deeper system, as well as the twin harvest worlds and the raiding fleet. This was... Out of character for a fleet in the Dead Zone. What were they doing here? Why were they here to begin with?

All questions were answered as the unknown ships loosed two weapons beams. Each beam hit a different transport vessel, rending hull and tearing into the ship. Neither vessel was destroyed, but they were instantly crippled. That left ten of the Vresh ships left that could keep maneuvering, and while the confusion was still there, they realized what this unknown entity was here for. Aggression. That was all that was necessary.

Vresh combat ships were scrambled from systems away, quickly moving to warp into Baeturn as the Hivemind summoned a response. But the ten transports that could move were now facing the unknown encounter. While they couldn't communicate with the ship directly, they began to feel a sense of ancient malice emanating from the ship, blowing across the empyrean in psionic waves. Old, but familiar nonetheless.

Every species had a psionic signature, a language of thought that was unique to their kind. To the Vresh, it was the equivalent of smelling different spices in foods. This was a musky kind of thinking the Vresh hadn't encountered in several ages. Overpowering in essence.

Shenyuri? They're back?

The transport ships spread out as well as they could, but these ships were not made for combat. They were lightly armored, and only had a couple options for weaponry, most of them only useful for similarly-defended hostile vessels. Either way, the transports would need to close some distance to make their active defenses viable.

The transport ships' engines began burning as hard as they could to close that distance. Survival was paramount.

The Shenyuri are a threat to our entire survival. And they are back.

[True Refuge]

The Order of the Winged Eye

---

]

---

CELL TWO
The Federal Republic of Corundum
Mognandor, Karelia Minor, Karelia System

---

Over the years, Mognandor had grown a certain shadow that darkened its apparent prosperity. In the distance to the east, away from the idyllic suburbs and their moderate wealth, starships darted forth from the town’s central spaceport up to cargo haulers above while to the west all the hallmarks of heavy industry lumbered onwards, even the ugly trails of black smoke from chimneys fitted with no more treatment than the absolute minimum required. Propagated by strangled infrastructure budgets and neglectful landlords, the town’s seedier areas born long ago to supply the manufactories had maintained an accompanying culture as the wealthy kept liveability right where it was most convenient. City planning narrowed streets and packed them full of high-density and low-liveability tenements, dilapidated alleyways became a common sight in this outer district, and the nightlife brightened as the lower classes looked for solace away from their meagre and non-unionised employments.

Some sought it in the pleasures only brought by a daily dose of chemical bliss, and so wasted away in the damp and cold of the understreets after each shift. Most spent their evenings wallowing in the drink in the shadowed parts of pubs, talking only with trusted friends, family and gang members. A rare, courageous few saw the true perpetrators of their unsatisfactory lives and rallied against them in the quiet at great risk to life, limb and wage, trying to draw like-minded proletariats without anywhere near as much wherewithal to their side.

Of those last two kinds, Cell Two’s first mission location was frequented by those firmly in the latter. Its leader waited outside an odd building, constructed without a real plan in mind for its purpose or zoning laws. For the most part, those with means, such as himself, avoided the district, and even when they could not the visits were short and unpleasant. Those who couldn’t afford anywhere else passed the days with repressed disappointment. Tonight, the leader ventured in, mentally hacking away at the graffiti and practically tangible disparity. He’d finished the required reports in the two days allotted and handed them off in short bursts of encrypted narrow-beam radio to just the right ships as they passed though the spaceport. He’d waited as required, but there was no meeting yet. The delay was too short to be worrying; protocol stated daylong mess-ups by FTL transport companies weren’t all that uncommon, and there were many other factors in preparing the cell for infiltration. Nevertheless, it was not the leader’s job to worry, so he kept the routine twice before the first drips of anxiety creeped in. At that point it was starting to become unexpected, but the leader maintained hope, and so he braced himself against the seeping cold of the city’s night. Maybe it was for the better, considering tonight was probably the best occasion for them all to meet.


Bits of some overambitious amateur architects’ delusions of grandeur stuck out of the bar’s high roof at strange angles. One of the metal protrusions was always visible from the crossroads it was built by, no matter where inevitably confused pedestrians looked or stood. Half a drinking house and half a forgotten community hall, the aesthetic blended right in with its surrounds, testifying to the ‘skill’ of mid-tier architectural firms in the city. The leader checked the time via his retinal implants. It was nearly an hour and a half before the planet’s midnight and yet the bar was still only a little busy, not unlike the rest of struggling small businesses in the city. It made good money but true prosperity was a pipe dream. The great and powerful of Mognandor were rather averse to the idea of anyone prising market share away from the big chains.

Someone had hung up an unexciting sign beside the bar’s doors for the night, with “Mognandor Socialist Party Chapter Meeting” in small, type blinking weakly across the screen with a sappy invitation and grand quote from some ideologue from Old Earth history below. The leader took it and stepped in, nodding courteously at a listless bouncer as he did so. The noises of the several simmering conversations of a quarter-full establishment greeted him. A cheap bar-bot turned to face him without stopping its cleaning but the other patrons spared him the cliché uniform silence and stares. A few double doors, coated in knock-off leather and clean from lack of use, led to a larger area suited for live music and peak happy hours. In a far corner, almost as far away from the entrance as possible, most of the night’s drinkers huddled around a few tables, talking in angry whispers. The leader used his communicator to order and pay for a beer selected with a random point and utterance at the taps on display. The barbot dispensed it, a glass and some unnerving creaks in a series of quick movements. With cheap alcohol in hand, the leader observed Mognandor’s socialists.

A central figure, undoubtedly dressed the least shabby, was going without a seat. He moved between the attendees smoothly, corralling individuals with soft conversations and at one point did a grand toast, alleviating some of the frowns that blanketed the attendees’ expressions. Nursing his beer, the cell leader absorbed all the platitudes and unsophisticated economic philosophy he was expecting from the group. There were plenty of expletives too, some in jest against their host the bar owner, and with passion clearly audible against capitalist bogeyman. The leader tapped his fingers on the wood of the bar. It was a sad state of affairs. The Order had a sizeable archive on socialism and its history, and from the very large portion of it he’d read these were the type of revolutionaries tucked away in footnotes, never amounting to anything more than an irritant to the governing body. But it was salvageable, and here he was to rekindle their cause.

At almost exactly midnight, farewells were exchanged and hands shook. Evidently, the leader had caught the tail end of a long, arduous and unproductive gathering. Scowls abounded on the workers’ faces as they passed him by, an expression only soured by the sight of his business wear. He’d chosen the loose collared shirt, tie and trousers with great care, although his intentions had nothing to do with these sorry blue-collar drones, at least for now. One of the heavier drinkers muttered a curse in his direction with glassy eyes, but the leader offered only a deferential nod in return, sending the drunkard and his friends grumbling off into the night.

He checked his inserts again, noting that the rendezvous had come and gone a while ago. Time for a decision. It would be difficult to continue without others, and staying too late might lead to tiredness and held the infinitesimal yet worrying chance of questions about his habits if his productivity dropped. He might as well channel the tension into his work. After a few seconds, he waited for a glance from the socialists’ chief and caught one with a nervous smile. The slightly older man, nearing his twilight, gave him a curious look.

“Haven’t you seen you drinking here before,” he said. His voice had a typical cordiality, with all the smoothness of a politician and none of his acquaintance’s crudeness, fitting well with the nice yet modest semi-organic coat hugging his shoulders. The mishmash of old Romantic languages came smoothly from him. It looked like it had good temperature controls under the decorative cloth. A wealthy benefactor, perhaps. “May I ask what’s brought you to our humble hall?”
The leader widened the smile, laid down the beer, and offered a hand in a common, recognisable gesture. “Of course,” he replied in a perfect performance of Mognandor’s native tongue. The training to achieve that level of proficiency was a painful memory, and even then he’d stuck out for several months when he first arrived. “I overheard some of my co-workers talking about your group.”

The benefactor returned the favour and shook. The corners of his mouth upturned in a way that seemed sincere. “Wonderful to hear that the cause is getting around outside of the district, based on what you’re wearing. And your name, my fellow?”

“Thompson McFoster.” That name was real, although the time that had passed from when he received it seemed far too long ago to remember. “I’m afraid they were actually-“ he cleared his throat awkwardly, “laughing about you and your, uh…”

“Comrades. Never mind the jesting. We’re pretty small around here, any mention of our cause, supportive or not, is a victory,” the man said with his own grandfather’s smile, caring and understanding. “Matthias Elvin, head cadre of the Mogandaor Socialist Chapter, at your service.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Something about his new acquaintance irked him. Maybe it was the antiquated language; it reminded him of the Old Earth benevolent Politburos sitting above the rest of their socialist brethren, demanding pseudo-hero worship. Of course, Matthias wasn’t quite there, and his natural conversationalist mannerisms were common of any leader, but the gut feeling was there. The Order would demand that he remember that, and so he did. “I found the concept a little interesting, actually. I’ve been feeling a little down recently, you know. The boss cut our benefits again, and no one will do anything about it.” That was a bit of a stretch, but it was technically true. An accounting error had led to a somewhat larger credit a few weeks back and his employers had reversed it within a couple of hours. “You’ve probably heard that before, right?”

Indeed Matthias had. He was nodding sympathetically and supposedly listening intently. “Mognandor is full of people suffering injustice under the ultra-wealthy, but that doesn’t make your problems any less saddening. Are you interested in joining the cause, Mr Terrill?”

Thompson was about to give an eager answer when the tip tapping of a set of rapid footsteps came from the door. Both turned in conjunction with the barbot to spot a youth, barely over the planet’s drinking age, entering and scanning the bar. His blond hair, cut short and neat, stood out among the few patrons left and their dirtied complexions. Nevertheless, the generic labourer’s uniform on him and their exhaustion from a long week of work averted their prying curiosities. A second went by before he and Thompson locked eyes, and the latter breathed silent relief at seeing a face out of the file still fresh in his thoughts.

Within moments, he turned back to Matthias, who maintained a mildly annoyed frown for the interruption. “Oh, thank goodness, I thought he wasn’t going to make it tonight.” Thompson gestured towards the youth pacing towards them. “He’s an acquaintance of mine, born in the Freelands and emigrated and all that, and he’s just as interested as I am in joining,” he spat out, riding his tension’s release.
Matthias’ lit up at another recruit up, replacing the frown with another welcoming simper. The oddly specific detailing of this random person’s life story quickly faded from memory. The arrival’s eyes did the same at the practiced code wormed into conversation without hesitation. He strolled up as everyone sized each other up and Thompson’s value to Matthias changed once again, and inclined his head respectfully.
“Antony Mayer,” he said softly. The characteristic harshness of the planet’s gang youth was missing. “I’m pleased to meet you.” A hint of an accent leaked through, but Matthias was too chuffed by his two new recruits to notice. Thompson and this Antony noted it and prepared themselves for the reprimand later.
“This is wonderful,” Matthias chirped, a little too excited. “Two signups in one day! Stay there for a moment while I get our little book and pen from the back. I know it’s an old tradition, but we’re old fashioned here. I’ll send you some information after to your communicators.”

Matthias disappeared slipped through the doors to the hall, leaving Thompson, Antony, the drunkards, and the barbot in near-silence. As soon as the socialist was out of earshot, Thompson ushered his new colleague to a seat at a nearby table. The barbot swept up the empty beer bottle and disposed of it. Thompson looked around and saw that the closest of the bar’s customers were nearing unconsciousness. For a moment, they could talk.

“Damn it,” Thompson whispered, glaring straight at Antony, switching to a Corundum dialect quite a linguistic distance away from Mognandor, mixed in with a few words most definitely unknown to anyone there. “May the Seven’s grace smile upon you,” he uttered rapidly.
“May they smile upon you in kind,” came the flat reply.
“You and the rest have missed arrival dates and set our arms preparations back a week. I want a summarised report on where you have been for the last three days.”
“The edict to remain came directly from the Hands of the Seven,” Antony said. Thompson was impressed with his tone. The Trainers had done a good job with him, for his expression kept neutral despite the displeasure radiating off his superior. There was no ‘sir’, that term was reserved for much worthier officers.
“From the Hands?” Thompson exclaimed. “What did the edict entail?”
“I and the others were placed on militia duty, three hours before our initial departure time for this system. I heard from my supervising Junior Squire that the platoon we relieved was preparing a location for a classified initiative and was prohibited from discussing it further. The edict was not shared with the rest of the Verdigris population.”
The news didn’t disturb Thompson much; the compartmentalisation of information and plans was common in the Order, but to pull cell members so soon before the start of their deployment? Something important was happening back on Verdigris, and, deep inside, it hurt that he wasn’t considered worthy enough to know about it. “The other cell?”
“The last communications I heard of before we began departures indicated they successfully arrived and regrouped.”
Antony’s eyes suddenly shifted, prompting Thompson to turn to follow his gaze. Matthias was coming back through the doors to the disused hall, clutching an old leather-bound book and a sleek pen in his hands.
“The other members are coming on separate routes-and-should-be-here-tomor-thanks for calling me here, Mr Terrill.” His pace increased time ran out, ripping through the last sentence of his report before Matthias came back into earshot and he segued into normal conversation. “I probably would’ve missed this if you hadn’t mentioned it.”

Matthias dismissed the talk by gently placing the book on their table and laying the pen beside it. “That’s an authentic, Earth-fibre style book. I think it’s fitting for such great moments as new manpower for the cause. Just sign and print your names in here, my friends, or comrades, as I should say. Somewhere around the seventh page should be good.”

Both cell members went through the process with little flair. As Thompson opened it, he noted that there were many dozens of small, neatly or messily written out names there across its filled pages, but at most, he had counted only seventeen people at that night’s meeting. It only entrenched his assessment of the chapter further.

It was two hours after midnight by then, and for all his supposed enthusiasm it was starting to show in Matthias’ posture and on his face. The cell members gave their farewells and relieved him by leaving the bar. They emerged onto the dark, quiet street and stopped outside for a moment.

“Your assessment, Antony?” Thompson asked as he looked down the street, eyeing the lights that weakly lit the way home.
“We’ll probably have to remove him from his position at some point,” Antony rattled off, switching languages once more to one entirely foreign, one no one on the planet aside from him and his superior would know. “He’s likeable enough to convince some of the less stricken, but he exudes privilege. No truly oppressed people here will support him long enough for the objective.”

Thompson nodded. “I agree. I assume you are prepared for tonight in terms of accommodation and supplies?”
“Yes. The Order knew it would be difficult to integrate us into the safehouse at this late time.”
“Good. We will meet after my working shift with whoever arrives tomorrow to organise our next steps and read over the culture reports I’ve prepared.” He turned to dismiss. “May the Seven save us, protect us, deliver us.”
Thompson walked off, taking a different path from Antony. So, the most critical part of the first steps had been successful, which was an unbelievable relief even though he’d trusted the Order to carry out their side of the plan without fail. Tomorrow would probably be easier, and then they could really begin their work.

---

EXPEDITION ONE
?????
????????

>INCOMING SIGNAL DETECTED
>ACTIVATING DECRYPTION PROGRAMS…
>AUDIO AND TEXT FILES DETECTED
>PLAYING
Expedition, your work has been laudable. The Hands of the Seven agree with me in saying that your dedication and preparation is exemplary, and this mission will set the bar for the Winged Eye’s future endeavours. I regret that our information protocols prevent your friends and fellow believers from knowing your service and sacrifice.

Your squire’s orders are attached. Information protocol S-3 is in effect as per usual. The second-in-command will assume the squire’s position until further notice.

The rest of the expedition has been allotted one day’s rest. At the conclusion of your rest period, travel directly to the marked co-ordinates with the prisoner, where you will meet your new commanding officer. They are to be treated with absolute respect. Any lack of faith, disobedience or prohibited inquiry into areas of their service will be noted and the Hands of the Seven informed immediately. The Order will punish breaches without restraint. Note that the punishments for such infractions can and will exceed execution if your commander deems it appropriate.

Praise the Seven.
Death to the King.
>END OF AUDIO

---

██████
?????
????????

Know him, know them, pity him, pity them, fight him, fight them.
Befriend him, befriend it.

I̜͈̗̼̰ ͏̞̹̝͍̙a̟̼̙m̫̣͍͔̯̹ ̶̙̫͕̤̟̳̮n͇̤̰̠͍͖ot̩͔͖ ̢̜͓̙̻̪ͅw͚͈͚͠ͅó̠̗̘͕̼̩̪r̦̩t͏̙h͝ỵ̣̘͖̠̺ of̤͟ ̧̘̝̮̺̼̤̖t̘͍̩̠é̫̙͇̺llin͔̩̲͚̞ǵ̝̻ ̱̩̻̙̺̮̻͝h̹̕ͅị̷s͉ ̠̤̰̠͉̀s̵͈͈͕͖t̴͈͖o̴̼͈r͓̲̳̞̰ͅy̥̳̥̲̲̣.̮̱̮̝̯̭͝ ̝A̴̼̣̥̳̙̣n̘̼̭͈͕̼͓͘ò̻͚̦̥̗͔t̬̹́he͕̺̞͚̖͙r,̸̱ ͓m̬͔̹or̟̭̜͙e̛͔ ̦̹kn҉o̜̬̳͈͟w̠̰̳̫̱i̷̤͎̣̜̼͉n̥̤̳̘̟̫g͡,̡̮̭̜̟̟̞̰ ̫̫w͕̻̭̝̭̤il͓̘͇̲̤͝l̨ d͈̤̭̻̲̞͢o̭̪͘ ̗̲̬͇̺t̯̮͎͕̙͕̖h̳͙a̩̯̝̜͘ṱ̩͉̰̺̘ ͏͇̞̱̠̳̠s̭̯͇̹͜o̗͞ò͈͎n̹.̨̳͉͖̬̫ ̱̯̺̤̪̜͢R̠͙͚͙̙̰̣e͏̗̻̮ͅa̧̬͓̣̫̭̣̞d͎͕́ ͖̝̣̦̺̜o̭̥̱̯̖̙̝n͙,̟̼͘ ͙ć̲̞h̛i̧̗̩͓̻̟̖l̴̹̹̦d͚̮͍̘.̴̯̺̦̜̗

[Empire of Donner land]

---

Revenge
|Baeturn System, Vresh Dead Space|C2.8.8.2496|

"This Fury from Generations"

The first beam that was let loose slammed into a Vresh Ship, gutting it as scrap and pieces of it blasted out into the void of space. It's engines either fell silent or altogether stopped, crippling the ship and made easy prey to the Shenyuri Battleship. The Impact had sent it into a spin, being slowly corrected by what engine power it could muster. Smoke and fire bled from the vessel. The second beam had nearly completely demolished the engine area of another Vresh Ship, putting it at a halt, causing the same amount of destruction.

"Have they no shields?" the Captain asked as they came into Railgun range. He was quickly searching through the database on the Vresh for information with one hand and looking through reports from the ship with the other.

"We've yet to see. We're entering Railgun range. Permission to fire all weapons on the escaping vessels, sir?" The ensign had the green for the signal to fire for the Railgun crews, his finger hovered over the button expectantly. but he quickly undid this as the Captain gave his order.

"Focus all Railgun fire on their Planet, focus on population centers and infrastructure. Spread out the destruction. Keep the beams on those retreating vessels. I want them to watch their planet be bombarded." He ordered with anger in his voice, for the first time in millennia they would be setting fire to a Vresh world.

The Railguns gained their fire solution and spread out their fire over numerous population centers and any crucial infrastructure. Seconds passed before all guns opened up, flashes of light coming from the tracers on the Railgun shells flew from the Battleship. The 50cm rounds slamming into the ground caused enough energy being released to be seen from the ship itself with sensors, as the shells themselves slammed into the atmosphere lighting up from the shock heating.

Meanwhile, another salvo of the Particle Beams slammed into the Vresh Formation, focusing on undamaged ships.

[Tagali Federation]

Somewhere, many galaxies away....


Unknown to the natives of the Milky Way, their lives and the trajectory of their races was about to be changed forever. Four creatures stumbled into a structure unlike anything they've seen before. At first, they were cautious, but curiosity soon got the best of them. They explored the ruins, marveling at the technology on display, ancient yet outclassed anything they had seen. Soon, they grew comfortable in the dormant facility, only the future could tell if they grew too complacent. Soon, a young naive member of the party found a spacious control center, a large holographic map of their galaxy with red lined connections to others in the middle. Marveling at the display, the young one approached what appeared to be a control panel of some sort. Throwing caution to the wind, the young one soon began messing with the panel. Using it to control the display, he changed its angle, zoomed in, at one point, even pressing a single button to make entire galaxy nodes on the map disappear, their fate unknown. Finally, the young one found a button, dimly glowing in red. With a single tap, the button activated the entire facility. The red lines suddenly turned green across the various galaxies. To the young one, things would continue as normal, but life for trillions of others had been changed dramatically....

---

Milky Way Galaxy
Todval System, Tagali Empire
Santara, outermost planet of the Todval System


"Final checks acknowledged. Please continue standby for we are currently having equipment difficulties." The message irritated the Tagali freighter captain. He hated runs to the Core Worlds. If this was the Frontier worlds, a simple bribe would have smoothed out any delays. The Core Worlds section of the Imperial Navy would not have any of it. Bribery would end with him being spaced on the spot. He looked to the display of the nearest world. The arctic planet of Santara was in eternal night due to its distance from the Todval star. Still, lights of 2 billion Tagali were scattered across the surface. Despite its distance from the star, Santara was no different than the other worlds of the system, having boasted a fully fledged biosphere even before Tagali colonization thousands of years ago. Its life had evolved to withstand the harsh cold and evolved to rely on smell instead of eyesight.

"Continue Standby, current time estimates-" Suddenly, the transmission oddly stopped, much to the Captain's confusion. Out of the corner of his eye, the lights of Santara suddenly went out as large segments of the planet came apart. shards of the world shot out, colliding and destroying many of the ships and stations in orbit. Quickly, the destruction came to the Captain as debris came speeding through the hull of his ship. The last thing he saw before his death was a large ring ascending from the corpse of the planet. Santara was no more, and similar events were occurring all over the Milky Way Galaxy.

---

Jakala,
Saj Islands, Imperial Court


Kana had just witnessed the death of a Noble House before his eyes. A Shaman finished performing the final prayers over Hierarch Nezhven's body before Imperial Guards wrapped his body in a ceremonial rug and carried it off. Nezhven had taken his own life with a dagger when he found out the news. His home world, Santara was suddenly destroyed, with his entire family and house with it. The House of Barul was no more besides a few scattered souls across the Empire. Kana couldn't blame him, for he himself and anyone else in the room regardless of status would do the same in his situation. Santara was a testament of Tagali endurance in the face of environmental hazards in the Space Colonization age. Now, that testament had been destroyed, and an unknown object now stood in its place.

As the body was dragged out, the Empress stormed in, still in her sleeping attire, just as the others were. "Izara, tell me everything we know,now!" The Empress commanded. Kana was taken aback by this. Until now, she was seen as a weak individual. She had called a halt to multiple offensives except the Dominion front. She lacked the harsh hand her father had, and spoke with kindness to the members of her court. Such acts would be seen as an opportunity for an opportunistic sibling. She would be killed in ritual combat, and the next ruler would re-initiate the wars, worlds would burn and people would be conquered, and things would return to how they had been. Now, she lacked kindness or hesitation in her voice, for either could be seen as fear in the situation.

Izara stepped forward, her red hair tied into a bun, ritualistic tattoos lined her body, only interrupted by battle scars and her missing left arm. "An hour ago, our beloved Santara was destroyed. No survivors both on the planet and in the immediate area have been reported. More information is coming in, but a massive ring structure has taken the place of the planet." The Empress took in the information.

"Do we know what caused this? I don't understand how a massive ring could be under our noses without us knowing of it!?" Izara nodded and continued with her briefing.

"A detachment of the Violet Fleet is currently on route to investigate more closely, but we've been able to hear transmissions from the object." Izara began to play a clip of the audio coming in. It was an alien tongue, one divided into many different languages. One of the older members of the court chuckled as if an answer had come to him. Kana gave the old man a confused look.

"What do you find so funny? An unknown enemy has attacked us in the heart of the Empire!?" The old man stepped forward.

"Not so unknown, but TOO known. I've heard these all before. In my long gone youth, I was in the Imperial Navy. I was tasked with learning and translating many Human languages. English, Hindi, Chinese. Listen closely" The Old began to speak in heavily Tagali accented English, repeating words of the transmission.

"Juputa, Satuun, Puluto. These are not just human worlds, but worlds of the Human Home System, Sol! These are old transmissions from about a century or two ago. There are differences in the manner and words that they speak but there is no denying, those are humans on the other end of those transmissions. Somehow, Todval and Sol are now linked. How far the connection, who knows." The entire court began to think it over, before arriving at the same conclusion. Shouts of Human involvement began to arise. Most particularly a rigid mountain of a Tagali wrapped in a large fur coat, who stepped center stage in front of the Empress.His name was Ubrashva and began rousing up the court.

"Yes, it is the Humans who have done this! They have been brutally bloodied for a century, and now they have lashed out! We have let this continue for far enough! Let us gather the fleets, and burn a scar into the galaxy of their territory!" The court yelled in approval, except for one dissenting voice.

"How could they?" All of the eyes turned towards Kana with predatory gaze. There was no turning back now that he had spoken out. "Human success has come from force of will, adaptation, plain luck, yet it's taken them the better part of a century to even approach our level of technological superiority. Not to mention, while they've pushed us back greatly, we're still holding on to the border. They would have had to somehow sneaked their way through a warzone into the Frontier, through various holdings and evading fleets and patrols to make into the coreworlds undetected, plus, they would have had to have brought a planet cracker with them. " Ubrashva quickly approached Kana, trying to use his large size to intimidate him into submission. Kana simply maintained eye contact and unwrapped his tail from around his waist.

"The young one speaks of sense." The Empress's voice rang out. grabbing Ubrashva's and Kana's attention. "Humans are resourceful, but do not possess the magic that would be needed to undertake a task such as this. Still, we can't disprove their involvement. Young Kana, you will be the one to lead the investigation since you are dissenting voice in this court. Izara will guide you in this task. In the meantime, I want resources diverted to the front immediate to prepare for any Dominion attacks that come in this time." The order was satisfactory for Kana and Izara, who bowed in acknowledgement. Ubrashva was still displeased.

"We should not be holding our ground, but attacking! 100 billion Human skulls for the 2 billion Tagali lost!" The Empress stared at him with a neutral expression.

"I understand that you are taken with grief for this situation, but we cannot go charging blindly into this. That is possibly what has gotten our people into this catastrophe to begin with."

"Our people have been strong!" Ubrashva lashed out."It is only under the Sajana that we have been forced to take defeat after defeat!" Without noticing, he moved his hand to point at the Empress. Suddenly, Imperial Guards came out of no where. Two were now holding bladed weaponry to Ubrashva's throat, while numerous others came out of the shadows armed with trident-like plasma lances and rifles. With reticules now aiming in specific parts of his body, the Empress spoke, calmly as ever.

"If you see my House as weak and wish to claim the throne, than initiate the proper rituals and challenges as is your right as a Tagali. But make an outburst like you just did, and I cannot stop my Guards from killing you on the spot. Now, do you wish to undergo the proper rites to challenge my rule?" The Empress continued staring Ubrashva down, but Kana detected something her eyes that wished that Ubrashva would stand down and prevent bloodshed. Luckily Ubrashva backed down with a final guttural sound. The Guards relaxed as the Empress's tail wagged up and down.

"We are all disturbed by tonights events, but we will carry through and grow stronger from it. Kana, Izara, you have your orders. Report to me the first information you gather."

[Korhal IVV]

League of Talarian Republics
A World Shatters


Fiery explosions lit the void in orbit above Beta Coralis as the invading White Knights clashed with the Cosmo Navy forces defending the industrial world in a bid to take control of one of the most important planets in the League of Talarian Republics. Voidcraft of either side were destroyed by the dozens every few minutes as the fierce firefight continued on and on, with the starships of the White Knights hiding behind the asteroid ring that surrounded Beta Coralis, while the vessels of the Beta Coralis Defense Fleet stood in the safety of their orbital defense network. The desiccated corpses of many ships floated all over the place, as all of them showed signs of being struck by the main weapons of the Talarian warship- positron cannons. Pieces of metal drifted across the orbital paths, and the free flying volatile antimatter cores that once powered the mighty weapons of those destroyed ships would be intentionally shot at to trigger chain reactions that destroyed entire stations. It was a bloody affair

Few could have guessed that this world they were fighting over would be no more in a few more moments. As the commanding ship of the White Knight forces led another charge against the enemy defense fleet, the foe would hod the line; neither would gain much ground as they inflicted more or less equal losses to the other. The White Knights then hid behind the asteroid ring once again, but as they did so, cracks began to show all across the planet, and the cracks grew and grew in the space of a few seconds until the world itself broke apart. Pieces of the planet shot out into space with astronomical force that would have completely vaporized entire moons, completely obliterating the Beta Coralis Defence Fleet and dealing heavy losses to the White Knight fleet. It was an irony that the world the Defence Fleet was tasked to protect would be their undoing, and as the remaining White Knights regrouped, they saw the massive ring emerging from the world’s shattered core. With no orders to retreat, the fleet’s remains stood still, but they picked up numerous comms chatter from the ring.

Strange, it is.

Tau Volantis
Heir to the Throne

Zerok and his cadre of advisors stared at the screen, dumfounded at what they witnessed. One minute before, they were intently watching at the ongoing battle to conquer Beta Coralis, and now it was no more. All that was left in its place was a mysterious ring of unknown composition, and the Prince would think twice before sending ships and crewmen to their certain deaths at the hands of whatever destroyed Beta Coralis.

“Tell me, my dear advisors.”, Zerok calmly asked as he sat back on his throne. “What do we know of the situation?”

Tardavul Sarakal spoke first. “No survivors except for those ships of the 4th Fleet that we dispatched to retake the planet. A ring structure has taken the planet’s place. It is transmitting various transmissions and communications. Listen! The words of the Slav’name echo from the other side, and another language has chattered its way in, though we do not what that other one is.”

“Slav’name?”, Zerok said as he put his hands in his chin. “Aren’t they trade partners to the League? What do they have to do with the destruction of one of the most important industrial planets in the League?”

Thereni Kiorn spoke next. “If I may, your Majesty. Somehow, the Beta Coralis System and a Slav’name System are now linked, and I suspect the ring that has taken the planet’s place has something to do with it...”

“Contact the Slav’name Territories.”, Zerok ordered. “Kindly ask them if a planet of theirs exploded and got replaced by a massive ring.”

“Isn’t that... rude, your Majesty?”

“If something similar happened to them, they can’t hide it either way. Exploding planets are the kind of news that spread faster than wildfire.”, Zerok answered.

“What of the 4th Fleet?”

“Have them investigate further. We must know the truth.”

[The Empire of Tau]

Kah’Loth System
Slav'nam Void-Space
Cruiser “Ozognnorc”

The several bursts from the energy cannons from the Raider manages to score all its hits, but finds itself stopped by the Cruiser’s Void-Shields that spark like Christmas lights. The Ozognnorc starts up its weapon systems - it's time for some combat. A hail of ballistic point-defense ammunitions, ranging from fast-fighting-25mm rounds to slower-but deadly 100mm rounds, shower the void as anti-ship missiles and torpedoes make way towards the Cruiser. Only a few torpedoes/missiles manages to reach the Cruiser, but hits the projected Void-Shield as the explosives cause a massive ball of light to flash before dying down - the Cruiser is left undamaged by the salvo of torpedoes. However, the Cruiser’s Void-Shields start to fail as the continuous flow of damage done by the two Raiders overwhelm the Void-Shields.

Returning the favor, the Cruiser shoots off a salvo of rail-canons of various sizes (largest being 440mm - smallest being 120mm). Every 10 second, another cannon salvo fires.

As time passes with shots returned, the Cruiser starts to feel the pressure as its thick armor slowly cracks under the continuous barrage of Raider-ship-weapons. Even if the Ozognnorc was that of shady scrap construction - it was tough to crack.

“Good to know. I hope that you don’t mind that we do some damage ourselfs.”

[The Empire of Tau]

The Machine Wars - Prologue
The Junkyard is a dangerous place, filled with various things that will try to murder you. First are the mini-hive-minds that will eat you alive with their buggy claws. Second are the rouge-machine-consciousnesses that seek to destroy all life with their metal-hands. Last are smaller civilizations that may or may not be friendly - that depends - but if not friendly then they’ll try to kill you with their alien hands. Other factors also include, but not limited to, pirates, space anomalies, and dense debris fields - among other minor conveniences.

For Colcong, they are always on alert for danger - given the brief description provided of the Junkyard. On the daily, their shipping routes are always under some form of hostile attack, minor or big. Planets, depending on their lactation, have the tendency to be invaded by either A. Machines, B. Bugs, C. Pirate-merc-armies, D. Other Civilizations, E. Fuck If I know. Space travel in general is annoyance because of the dense scrap fields and space anomalies, etc, etc, etc. Even then, Colcong is completely used to these issues,

Anyhow, Colcong is preparing for an invasion force into a rogue-machine-consciousnesses called AM - who own about 30 planets, 2,000 ships, 20 billion robuts. The reason for said invasion force is because AM is trying to unite other rogue-machine-consciousnesses to form a Machine Empire. Colcong has no plans for said Empire to form, for obvious reasons.

In accord, a fleet of a combined 3,560 ships and 230 million soldiers are in order. On the topic of AI and machines, Colcong has no real form of AI - instead needing to rely on extremely intelligent individuals called “Smart-Boys (and if they are women, “Smart-Garls) to do all the complex calculations. Back to the topic at hand. This invasion force is called “Invasion Force A,” a creative name, I know.

While I did mention Colcong as like a single power (which they are kinda) - Colcong is a made up of various factions and civilization. After-all, Colcong does stands for The Collective Conglomerate of Associated Entities For Common Mutual Aid and Defense of Ecclesiastical and Civil. You should have known that by now - if you read my past posts, which I did not assume you did.

Usually in these big cases where all of Colcong needs to assembly into a single megaforce - a joint-command-style-of-things is installed with the many commanders meeting to talk about the plans for war. So, the plan for this war against AM is “Biltz Their Ass.” If that dies down to nutrition of war then a war of attrition is the second place.

In the next post, you’ll see how Colcong does war, how the ships of the various factions of Colcong work, ground combat, and some talks about the many civilizations of the galaxy.